


fight or flight

by peachsneakers



Series: preservation of the self [11]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Cuddling, Depression, Disordered Eating, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrusive Thoughts, Kissing, M/M, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders, Panic Attacks, Past Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Sympathetic Remus Sanders, gay shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-11-22 13:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 13,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Virgil's prone to assuming the worst. This feels anything but an assumption.





	1. the calm before the storm

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the next installment of angst :)

Virgil wakes slowly, feeling warmer and more comfortable than he has in a long time. Then he looks up and realizes he's still cradled in all six of Deceit's arms, sprawled across the sofa. Deceit's hair falls into his eyes, the morning sun making his scales glitter iridescent. He looks beautiful and impulsively, Virgil reaches up, kissing him lightly on the mouth. Almost at once, Deceit stirs, sending Virgil a sleepy little smile.

"Sorry I woke you up," Virgil mumbles. Deceit only laughs, a little rusty with sleep.

"If being awake is the price I must pay for kisses and cuddles with you, it is a price I will gladly pay," Deceit promises, giving Virgil his own quick kiss. Deceit finishes it by letting his forked tongue flicker across Virgil's nose, making him giggle.

"This is nice," Virgil admits. They don't trust either of their rooms after what happened, so they decided to sleep in the living room last night. Virgil had dozed off in the middle of a Pixar movie marathon (something they both share with Remus is their love of Pixar, although Virgil has to admit he loves Disney, too- never in Remus's hearing, though). He doesn't remember much beyond sharing a bowl of popcorn and getting fizzy feelings every time his fingers brushed Deceit's. That, and cuddling against him as he slowly succumbed to sleep, Deceit murmuring "sleep well" over his drowsy head.

"Agreed," Deceit murmurs. "Remus is sleeping in Logan's room. 'Sleep' being a relative term." Virgil scrunches his nose. They're cute together, but it's so _hard_ to think of Remus doing anything like, well...that. And with _Logan_, of all people...

"Maybe they'll sleep in," Virgil says hopefully. He doesn't want their relative peace shattered, not quite yet anyway. Remus is just a tad too _loud_ for the level of sleepiness Virgil is currently experiencing. "Do you know where the others are?"

"Wrath stopped by for a second after you fell asleep," Deceit says. "Just long enough to tell me that they were all going to have a sleepover with Thomas. He also told me something else." The smugness in Deceit's voice piques Virgil's curiosity and he twists his head enough to stare into his boyfriend's eyes.

"What?" He asks.

"Patton might have confessed his own feelings for a certain wrathful side," Deceit says. "And said wrathful side _might_ just reciprocate said feelings." Virgil's mouth drops open.

"So they- really- Patton and _Wrath_?" He sputters. 

"Well, they do say opposites attract," Deceit reminds him. "I think it's cute personally. And it should be _extremely_ enjoyable, watching Wrath deal with his new romantic _feelings_." He grins, the tips of his fangs showing.

"Dee!" Virgil exclaims. "Be nice."

"Oh, I'll be nice," he assures him. "Don't worry on that score. It will still be entertaining and you know it."

"Well..." Virgil trails off, his face reddening. Deceit looks smugly down at him.

"That's what I thought," he says.

"Oh, shut up," Virgil mumbles. Deceit laughs.

"No," he says. Virgil snuggles in closer, listening to Deceit's steady heartbeat beneath his ear. It is surprisingly comforting.

"So," Deceit begins. "Shall we go back to sleep or get up and figure out breakfast?"

"I vote sleep," Virgil says. "Definitely sleep. Before Remus wakes u-"

Loud footsteps thunder down the stairs, and Virgil mentally facepalms. Of _course_. It's like he's been summoned.

More sedate footsteps trail down the stairs after Remus, and Virgil musters up a smile as Remus and Logan come into view.

"Virgey! Dee Dee!" Remus squeals when he spots them. "You're awake!"

"Unfortunately," Deceit says wryly.

"I told you they would be fine," Logan says, adjusting his glasses. It looks like he has several new hickeys.

"Yeah, but what about the others?" Remus asks, bouncing on his feet.

"They had a sleepover with Thomas," Deceit explains. Virgil notices he doesn't tell _Remus_ that Patton and Wrath now appear to be together.

"Oh," Remus says.

"Now will you come back to bed?" Logan asks, gently tugging at Remus's arm.

"Can I have more Crofters first?" Remus asks, giving his boyfriend puppy dog eyes. "It tastes so much better than gasoline!"

"I would hope so," Logan asks, sending Deceit and Virgil an apologetic look as he steers Remus into the kitchen.

"In that case," Deceit says, with a yawn. "Let's go back to sleep ourselves."

"Sounds good to me," Virgil says sleepily. He wishes this morning could last forever.


	2. knowing where you are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for really vivid nightmares, including spiders and other remus stuff

Remus can't remember the last time he didn't know where Roman was. It beats like a second heart inside him, the knowledge of where his twin is. 

But then he goes to bed with Logan (after another prolonged make-out session in which he learned just how much he appreciates braininess when it comes to kissing because Logan has that shit down to a _science_). He goes to bed and the shadows grab him by the ankles, yanking him into a dark cloud of nightmare. He's the arbiter of bad dreams. He has to be. Roman doesn't deal well with nightmares. It is not his domain.

But it is Remus's.

_He's running down an endless hallway. Doors creak as they flap open and shut in an invisible breeze. He seizes doorknobs and yanks them open recklessly, searching, but try as he might, there isn't the slightest hint of red and white and gold. Just dust and green and black and silver, just forgotten doodads and broken things, just heaps of trash rotting in corners and spiderwebbed lace._

_"Roman?" He finally calls, cringing when his voice echoes back, loud and cruel and mocking. "Where are you?" The words clang against the walls, making him slam his hands against his ears. _

_"Leave me alone, Remus," Roman's weary voice says behind him. Remus whirls, a shout of joy dying on his lips when he sees the state Roman is in. He is broken and pallid, black inky cracks running rampant over his face and down his neck. He sags to the ground and Remus can see that his legs are slowly breaking apart into tiny shards, each one carried by a plethora of tiny spiders. "You did this to me," Roman accuses. "It's your fault. I never want to see you again."_

_"No!" Remus blurts out, horrified. "No, I wouldn't- not ever- please, Roman, you have to believe me-"_

_"I don't have to do anything," Roman says coldly, and the world goes black. When the air clears, Remus finds himself standing in the middle of a desolate ballroom, so achingly empty he wraps his arms around his middle. His heart feels like it's cracked in two, and only ichor seeps free from it._

_"Roman!" He screams. Nothing but flat silence swells to meet him. "Roman, come back! I'm sorry, whatever I did, I'm so sorry, I-" His words garble in his throat, his tears choking them off as tears and snot run down his face. He wipes them on his sleeve, uncaring. "Please," he says, thumping down to his knees. "Don't leave me alone. I can't- I can't be alone. I can't lose you again."_

"REMUS!" Logan bellows in his ear, finally, and Remus bolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest like a frightened jackrabbit's. He looks around wildly, surprised to feel that his cheeks are wet. He's in Logan's room. In Logan's _bed_. And the man himself is staring at him in sleepy, yet abject concern.

"Sorry," Remus says in a tiny voice.

"You have no need to apologize, Remus," Logan says firmly. "What happened? You started crying in your sleep." He reaches out and brushes Remus's cheek with the pad of one thumb.

"I just had a nightmare," Remus admits. "That's all! It was nothing!" He grins as brightly as he can, his eyes glittering. Logan stares at him.

"It obviously was something, Remus," Logan says. "Please. You don't have to tell me what it was about, but please don't lie to me and tell me it was nothing." Remus drops his gaze, fidgeting with his sleeves.

"I was looking for Roman," he says in a quiet voice. "But I couldn't find him and then- then I did, but he-" His chest hitches and he swears at himself, trying to keep the tears away. "He told me to go away. He was- was rotting and he said it was _my_ fault. He never wanted to see me again. And then- then I was alone, all alone." His face slowly crumples and he finds himself smushed into Logan's shoulder as his boyfriend pulls him in for a hug, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"I am _certain_ that Roman would never do that to you," Logan says firmly. "In fact, let's go downstairs and check, all right? They've probably returned from Thomas's living room."

"And Virgil and Dee Dee will be there, right?" Remus asks, twisting his hands.

"Of course they will," Logan says, his voice warm. " They'll be fine. Come on."

Remus thumps down the stairs, his heart fizzing when he hears low conversation from the living room. He peeks in and sees Virgil and Deceit, tangled up on the couch. No sign of Roman. He forces away his frown.

"Virgey! Dee Dee!" Remus squeals. "You're awake!"

"Unfortunately," Deceit answers dryly. Remus chooses to ignore the sarcasm.

"I told you they would be fine," Logan says, adjusting his glasses. His eyes are soft as they capture Remus's.

"Yeah, but what about the others?" Remus asks, bouncing on his feet to work out some of his nervous energy. _Where's Roman?_

"They had a sleepover with Thomas," Deceit explains.

"Oh," Remus says, relief crashing over him like a tidal wave.

"Now will you come back to bed?" Logan asks, gently tugging at Remus's arm.

"Can I have more Crofters first?" Remus asks, giving his boyfriend puppy dog eyes. "It tastes so much better than gasoline!"

"I would hope so," Logan says, steering Remus into the kitchen. "You can have any flavor," he promises Remus. "Does that sound acceptable?"

"More than," Remus says, and grins.


	3. reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw idk if i'm gonna _always_ be able to update every day, my mh is kiiiiinda starting to crash because of pumpkin spice seasonal depression
> 
> like i'll always try to post _something_ but yeah!

Mellow, warm sunlight spilling across his face wakes Roman up. For a moment, he doesn't know where he is, and panic claws at his chest. Then he hears Thomas's familiar snuffle, and he relaxes back against the carpet, pulling the blanket up over his chest.

_Wow,_ he thinks, a massive yawn overtaking him. They had marathoned Steven Universe long into the night. Patton and Wrath had confessed their feelings for each other (or, at least, he thought they had. Wrath is a little hard to read still. _If you hurt Patton-_ he vows fiercely). Despite being the passionate prince, he's still alone. He doesn't understand why he doesn't mind.

And Wrath thinks they should bring up Thomas's depression to a professional. The thought sobers him, waking Roman like a dash of cool water to the face. Wrath's words echo in his ears. _Be careful with Virgil, would you?_ Now that Roman isn't sleep-addled, he has to admit that maybe Wrath has a point. After all, Virgil has a habit of blowing everything out of proportion and assuming the worst possible outcome. It's unavoidable, considering his role, but that doesn't mean it affects him any less.

But he's _nothing_ like depression. He's much more than anxiety. He's caution and self preservation. Even outside his role, he- he works _with_ everyone. He works with the group, to make everyone better. To make _Thomas_ better. All depression does is drag everyone down and make them _worse_. And depression isn't even a Side. It's a state of mind, and one that Roman thinks can be dealt with.

He just hopes that Virgil will actually listen.

"Are you awake?" Thomas asks sleepily. Roman nods, rolling over and propping himself up on his elbow. Thomas is sitting up, his hair sleep-tousled every which way, caught midway into a yawn. He smiles sheepishly when he catches Roman staring.

"I'm awake, too," Patton quietly says. "But I think Wrath's still asleep." Roman levers himself up, peering at the sofa. Wrath's features are relaxed enough, he actually thinks Patton might be right. He can't see Wrath letting just anyone see him that way, boneless and nestled against Patton.

"So," Roman says, smiling smugly at Patton. "Lovebirds, huh?"

"What?" Patton asks, startled. A bright red blush spreads across both cheeks. "You-"

"I overheard last night," Thomas admits. "Sorry, Pat. I'm so happy for you, though!"

"Me, too," Roman says. "If he ever hurts you, Pat-"

"I don't think that will ever happen," Patton says, bestowing a fond look on the sleeping Wrath. "He- I know we haven't known each other that long, but at the same time, it feels like I've known him for months. You know?"

_Not really,_ Roman thinks truthfully, but doesn't say. Patton wouldn't understand and he doesn't feel like trying to explain.

Wrath stirs and Roman watches Patton's face light up, brilliant as the sun.

"Wha?" Wrath mumbles, looking around in confusion.

"We had a sleepover," Thomas provides helpfully. "Uh...should you guys get back? I don't know if the others will worry, or..."

"They shouldn't," Wrath says. "I went back last night to tell Deceit that we were staying with you."

"Still, we should see them," Patton says. He looks slightly worried. Roman suddenly reciprocates those feelings. _Remus-_

They don't like not knowing where the other is. Roman can admit that, if only in the privacy of his own head. It's been that way ever since the split. If Remus doesn't know-

"Agreed!" Roman blurts out. "But it was a delightful sleepover, Thomas. We should do it again some time."

"I'd like that," Thomas offers. "So uh...when are we going to talk about the thing with everyone?"

"Maybe after breakfast?" Patton suggests. "For you _and_ us."

"Yeah, okay," Thomas says. "See you guys later."

Roman reaches out, snagging Patton's arm as they all sink down, reappearing in a heap in the middle of the living room.

"Oops," Patton says, blushing fiercely.

"ROMAN!" Remus screeches and suddenly, Roman's bowled over by his brother, who tackles him to the floor, squeezing him with enough tenacity for the giant octopus and more.

"I dreamed you hated me," Remus whispers in his ear. "You left me all alone. You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"No," Roman says. "Never."

"Do you promise?" Remus asks, peering into his eyes. This close, Roman can smell his breath. It smells like...Crofters? Oh, thank the Dragon Witch Logan's seen fit to share his jelly brand.

"I promise," Roman says firmly, hugging his brother back. "You're my twin. I'd never leave you alone." 

"Good," Remus says. "Or I'd knock you into next week."


	4. a cuddly breakfast

Wrath stands back, feeling a little awkward, a little out of place, in the midst of all the greetings (and Remus tackling his brother like a linebacker). Then Patton snags his hand, towing him into the fray, and he finds himself sprawled on the floor, being hugged every which way. And to his shock, he doesn't mind a bit. He even kind of..._likes_ it.

"Is this all right?" Patton whispers in his ear. "Sorry, I should have asked-"

"It's fine," Wrath reassures the moral side because a) it _is_ and b) he can't stand to see that guilty, almost dejected look in Patton's eyes for a second longer. "Just a little overwhelming," he admits. "It's not exactly...uh...cuddly in the dark."

"Ah," Patton says in understanding. Moments later, Patton gently maneuvers the both of them to the edges of the cuddle pile, where Wrath can breathe a little.

"Thanks," Wrath says. Patton beams at him. For a second, Wrath has an almost punishing urge to lean forward just enough to capture Patton's soft lips with his own, to taste Morality's sweetness and-

_What are you thinking?_ He scolds himself. _You might have...confessed your feelings, or what you can make of them, but that doesn't give you the right to just- just assault him with your fucking face._

"All right, we should probably have breakfast," Deceit's resigned voice drifts from the center of the pile. When Wrath looks that way, he can see that Virgil has secured a position curled atop him like a cat, while Remus has taken over the rest. 

"Oh, yes!" Patton blurts out, bouncing to his feet and taking a surprised Wrath with him. "Would you like to help?" He asks. "It's okay if you don't want to."

"Uh, sure," Wrath says before he can think about it or back out. When they enter the kitchen, he can tell that someone's cleaned it up post-party. The remnants of the cake are wrapped up on the counter top in clingfilm. Patton goes straight to the cupboards, pulling out pots and pans.

"Could you set the table?" Patton asks. "The plates are in that cupboard-" He points, and Wrath awkwardly does his bidding. It feels strangely domestic, setting the table while Patton chatters away about this and that, the smell of pancakes filling the air. He isn't sure how he feels about it, but he thinks he likes it.

"Thank you," Patton says brightly when he glimpses the table. "Could you help me with the toast next? Logan and Remus really like it."

"Remus will eat toast now?" Wrath doubtfully asks. Patton nods, beaming.

"I think it's because of Logan," he confides. "Logan actually shared his Crofters! Any flavor! Remus loves it."

"Huh," Wrath says. "Well, good, I guess. That uh, ma- deodorant is terrible for him." Patton giggles.

"He likes bacon, too," Patton says, and points to the pan full of sizzling bacon. "What do you like, Wrath? I can make you anything-"

"Uh, anything is good," Wrath says, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm not picky."

"Tell you what," Patton says, tapping the side of his nose and winking. "I'll give you caramel instead of syrup on your pancakes. How does that sound?"

"Good," Wrath admits. "But you don't have to-"

"I want to," Patton tells him. "Get the others in here?"

The others are still in a cuddle pile when he walks into the living room.

"Patton wants you to go in there for breakfast," he announces, feeling like the world's biggest twit. 

"Of course!" Roman declares, struggling to get up from under the weight of his brother, who seems to have decided that resting on Deceit and propping his legs up on Roman is a good idea. "We'll be- _would you get off me already_\- we'll be right there!"

Wrath disappears back into the kitchen, sitting down where he had yesterday, and the others file in, Remus practically trying to climb Logan like a tree. Wrath's eyes widen when he sees the hickeys all over both of them.

"Well, you had a wild night," he says without thinking. Roman takes a look at his brother, his eyes widening comically.

"Remus!" Roman scolds. "Logan! What- how- you-"

"I would think the what and how would be relatively obvious, Roman," Logan says calmly, polishing his glasses with the end of his tie before settling them firmly on the bridge of his nose. "Your brother and I-"

"I don't actually want an explanation, Logan," Roman groans. "I can guess."

"We sucked face!" Remus enthusiastically contributes. Wrath stifles a snicker. From the looks of Virgil and Deceit, he is not the only one.


	5. freeze or fawn

"By the way, Thomas wants to talk to us all after breakfast," Roman says, and Virgil's throat instantly dries.

"Why?" Deceit asks.

"His depression," Roman says. "Wrath brought it up, but he had a point. I mean, half of us can't even stay in our own rooms right now because of it, and we can't chance people falling prey to it in the middle of rising up again. Obviously Thomas isn't doing as well as he should be."

"So what do you propose he do about it then?" Virgil asks, his voice a croak. Roman looks his way carelessly, waving a chunk of pancake around.

"Oh, go to his doctor, probably," Roman says. "They'll know what to do about it. Wouldn't they?"

"Presumably," Logan says. Are his eyes watching Virgil's? Virgil swallows, praying that no one is looking his way. His thoughts are nothing but noise, a meaningless conglomeration of chaos. He can't pick out anything specific beyond _fear_.

So instead, he freezes and mechanically manages to force a few more bites past numb lips. Deceit has to hold his elbow to pop up in Thomas's living room. If his new boyfriend thinks that's odd, he makes no outward note of it. In some ways, that's worse. In some ways, it means Virgil can't help but wonder what's going on behind those mismatched eyes, if Deceit is running the numbers and remembering that Virgil is nothing but a disorder, too.

_I'm not, I swear I'm not,_ some tiny part of him cries out in hysteria. He ruthlessly squashes it down. He can't think about that right now.

"Guys!" Thomas says, excited. "It's good to see you all." _Is it, though?_ Virgil thinks. _Is it really?_

"We said we'd come back," Patton says, bouncing on his toes.

"We have stuff to talk about," Wrath says. Virgil tries very hard not to feel betrayed. _Is it because I left? Do I deserve this?_

_Yes. Of course I do. I'm a disorder._

"Yeah," Thomas says, looking down and shuffling his feet. "I dunno, I guess- It's hard to think of it as being as bad as it is? But it affects _you_ all so much..." He looks up earnestly. "I just want you all to be okay."

_How am I supposed to be okay if you want to get rid of me?_ Virgil internally rails. _Do you think I'm going to just smile and bow out of existence? _Now?_ You had your- your chance, I thought you agreed I was _needed..._ I'm not stupid, anti-depressants help with _anxiety_, too..._

"Virgil," Wrath addresses him. Virgil's head jerks up. He feels like a new species of insect, pinned to cardstock by the weight of everyone's stares.

"Yes?" He manages to creak out.

"You know that you aren't just anxiety, right?" Wrath asks. "You're a _Side_. Depression's just- just a state of mind. And a pretty shitty one, at that. Anxiety- it might be your _name_, technically, but it's not all you are. You belong here."

"Oh, yeah, uh, sure," Virgil says, feeling like a bobble-head doll. "I understand." He forces a smile to his face. It must not look too hideous, for Wrath seems to relax minutely and tune back into everything else.

_That might be the cruelest false hope anyone's ever given me,_ Virgil thinks. _I can't believe it's coming from you._

"So we are in agreement?" Logan asks. "You should call your doctor and ask for an appointment, Thomas. I believe the sooner, the better. I am sure that talking about depression is a common occurrence there. Your doctor will likely either prescribe you something or send you to a psychiatrist for further evaluation."

"That sounds scary," Thomas admits, nibbling on his thumbnail. Virgil silently agrees with him.

"It is!" Remus says brightly. "But why let that stop you?"

Everyone stops and stares at the impulsive side, who promptly buries his face in the curve of Logan's neck.

"Are you all right?" Deceit whispers, staring straight into Virgil's eyes as he squeezes Virgil's hand lightly.

"Of course," Virgil lies. Deceit eyes him in concern. "I will be," he amends, and Deceit relaxes slightly. Virgil could laugh, if only in despair.

The second he has the chance, he's going to do what he should have done a long time ago.

The sub-conscious is a cold and lonely place, but at least then he won't have the chance to hurt Thomas anymore.


	6. where's virgil?

Deceit knows that Virgil is full of shit the instant he says that he'll be okay, but he turns back to the discussion at hand, anyway. Virgil won't react well to being called out in front of everyone, and he doubts he'll be able to get Virgil to tell the truth that way. But the lie is sour and ripe on his tongue, making him want to wrinkle his nose. It's almost insulting, Virgil thinking that he can lie to his face. Maybe one of the others could get away with a partial truth like that, but he can _tell_ that Virgil doesn't believe it.

"So uh, should I just call now?" Thomas asks, looking around uncertainly. 

"Yes," Logan encourages him. The others back him up, nodding and giving Thomas more encouragement. Even Virgil lets a few hopeful words spill past his lips, and it seems like Anxiety being on board is exactly what Thomas needs, as he looks up his doctor's phone number.

"Hello?" Thomas asks. Deceit makes sure to be silent and eyes the others warningly, especially Remus. Logan seems to have Remus in hand, though, as he's rubbing the side of Remus's wrist with his thumb and silently encouraging Remus to focus on him and only him. He hopes that means Remus won't blurt out anything inappropriate. He doesn't actually know if some random receptionist would be able to hear them, but he doesn't want to find out. And he _especially_ doesn't want to find out by way of Remus shouting "juicy butthole" at the top of his lungs, or something equally inappropriate.

"I'd like to make an appointment," Thomas says. He's sat down on the sofa and now can't stop shaking his leg, foot tapping the ground in an erratic rhythm. "Um, to- to talk about depression," he stammers out. Deceit mouths praise at him, vowing to shower him with it as soon as he gets off the phone. "Three o'clock? Yeah, I can do three o'clock, uh, okay, thank you. Bye." He hangs up and looks around, dazed. "I have an appointment in two days at three o'clock."

"I'm so proud of you, Thomas," Deceit gushes, hoping that Thomas can hear the sincerity in his voice. The shy smile spreading across Thomas's face suggests that he can.

"Go, Thomas!" Patton cheers. "I know that was really hard, but I'm so proud of you, too! That was a really brave thing to do!"

"Yeah," Virgil chimes in. Deceit hides a frown at how shaky Virgil's voice sounds. Perhaps the others can't pick up on it- it's not a _bad_ wobble- but Deceit has heard Virgil upset more times than he can count. Something is wrong with Virgil.

"Thanks, guys," Thomas says, heaving an enormous breath of relief. "That- that was hard. I wish I could take you to the appointment-" He stops, laughing at himself. "I guess I am, aren't I. Just not out here, like this."

"We're always with you, Thomas," Logan says. "We _are_ you."

"Some of us are the new and improved version," Remus chimes in, wiggling his eyebrows. Roman raises his own eyebrows.

"It _can't_ be you," he says in disbelief. Remus grins.

"Sure it can, brother," he says. "You're just jealous."

"I am _not_-" Roman sputters.

"All right, all right, you're both pretty," Virgil cuts in, before the two of them can really get going. "Are uh- are we done here?"

"I guess we are," Thomas says, looking around. "I mean, I called. But Virge, you don't have to go..."

"It's just kind of crowded," Virgil says with a shrug. Deceit frowns. Again, with the half-truths. It is a little crowded. But that isn't why Virgil wants to leave, he knows it intuitively.

"We can stay a bit longer," Deceit coaxes him, one arm loosely laced around his waist. Virgil relaxes into the touch before he stiffens again.

"Are you sure?" Virgil asks, peering through his bangs and shuffling his feet. "I mean, I don't want to be a bother."

"You aren't one," Thomas says warmly. "It's not a party without Anxiety, Virge, come on, what do you say?"

"I guess," Virgil says, shuffling over with Deceit and perching on the edge of the sofa. Deceit eyes him with concern, but Virgil avoids his gaze.

"Hey, uh, I gotta go to the bathroom," Virgil says, leaping back up. "Be right back."

It takes Deceit a minute to realize the incongruity with that statement.

"No, you don't-" He says, lunging for and just barely grabbing Virgil's wrist as he sinks down into blackness.


	7. entering the subconscious

Virgil stumbles as he lands, the freezing chill of the subconscious seeping past his hoodie and making him shiver. Burning heat radiates from his hand and he looks up in alarm to see Deceit, grasping his fingers tightly.

"What- what are you doing here?" He stammers. 

"Clearly trying to stop you from making a decision you'll regret!" Deceit says, a prominent hiss marking his words. "I _love_ you, Virgil, did you forget that? We just declared it last night!"

"Of course I remember," Virgil says, trying to placate his furious boyfriend. "I just- It's better for Thomas."

"You thought that last time, too," Deceit says. And maybe he's not trying to be cruel, but it makes Virgil wince, anyway.

"That's- that was different," he falters. "This is different. I'll still be there. Sort of. Just not- not as me. Not enough to mess it all up."

"You don't mess it all up as it is!" Deceit exclaims. "Virgil, what's wrong? Seriously? You are _nothing_ like depression! You are a _person_. You are a _Side_. Depression is nothing more than the shadows that lurk in the corners. _You_ make Thomas's life- and mine- _better_. You keep Thomas alive. Don't you see how different that is from depression?" He thrusts his wrists out and Virgil flinches from the stark reminder.

"Depression wants to suck all the joy out of Thomas's life," Deceit says quietly. "Depression wants to paint every rainbow gray, wants to see the rain instead of the sunshine. Depression wants to kill Thomas. You don't. You never have. Sure, you get panic attacks. You get anxious. You _have anxiety, too,_ Virgil. And there is _nothing_ wrong with that. I know you're scared. But this could _help_ you, Virgil. This could help you feel better. Don't you want to feel better?"

"Of course I do," Virgil bursts out. "But I- what if it's all a ploy to get rid of me? What if it's all a big fat lie and no one really accepts me, after all?"

"I do," Deceit says. "I wouldn't lie to you about that. Never about that. And I would be able to tell if the others were lying about it. They _aren't_, Virge."

"What if I really am like depression?" Virgil whispers. "I- Anxiety is still a _disorder_, Dee. You can tell me I'm more than that all you want, but my name's not Caution. You're more Self Preservation than I am. My name's _Anxiety_ and that means I'm a disease."

"No, it doesn't," Deceit says, his voice ringing with conviction. "Am I nothing but a liar?"

"Of course not," Virgil says. 

"Then why would you be nothing but a disease?" Deceit asks. Virgil turns his face away, not sure what to say.

"You should go back," he finally says. "You- Thomas needs you."

"Thomas needs you, too," Deceit says. "I'm not going anywhere." Virgil bites his bottom lip, worrying at the flesh with his teeth.

"Yes," he says. "You are."

Then he yanks his hoodie sleeve free from Deceit's grip and flees, deeper into the subconscious until the darkness has swallowed up every footstep.


	8. starting a search party

For a moment, Deceit considers running into the subconscious after Virgil, common sense be damned.

Then his own self-preservation rears its reptilian head and he knows it would be the most foolish thing he's ever done. The others don't even know where he and Virgil _are_. Who would even think to look in the subconscious? By the time they considered it, it could be too late. He knows there's still time, but they don't have _that_ much.

And there's no guarantee he'll be able to find Virgil, not if he doesn't want to be found. Not alone. With the others, he'll have more of a chance.

"I'm coming back," Deceit vows to the shifting icy clouds around him. His breath puffs out. That's another reason he can't hare off after Virgil alone. The chill of the subconscious has always affected him more than the others, thanks to him being part-snake. "I'm not leaving you here alone, Virgil. I'm coming back."

And with his words still ringing in the gloom, Deceit turns on his heel and disappears, stumbling as he re-joins the others in Thomas's living room.

"Dee Dee?" Remus cries in alarm, rushing to his side. "Logan, he's like ice- Where's Virgil?"

"Subconscious," Deceit wheezes through numb lips as Remus helps him to the sofa and Thomas swaddles him with the warmest blanket he could snag on a moment's notice. "He th-thinks it's better, he didn't l-listen to anyone or me-me, I tried to t-t-tell him..."

"Breathe," Patton says reassuringly, squeezing his gloved hands. "You won't be able to tell us anything if you don't breathe, Deceit. That's it, in and out, just like that."

"He thinks he's a disease, doesn't he," Wrath says, his voice flat. When Deceit looks over, he pales. Wrath's fists are clenched to either side and his eyes are flat white, no pupils in sight.

"Go go go," Remus tells Patton, flapping his be-ruffled hands at him. "Me and Lo can handle Dee, he needs you to help calm him down-"

"What's- what's going on?" Thomas asks uncertainly. His breathing is unsteady and his hands are fists in his lap. Roman sits down next to him, tentatively brushing his fingers over Thomas's hands, getting them to loosen up.

"Wrath gets angry," Remus explains briefly, his face serious. "It's not good when he overloads. It's like- like me, when I freaked out, or Virgil, when he gets really bad panic attacks."

"Oh," Thomas says weakly.

"He'll be fine," Deceit manages to say, as Patton counting for Wrath drifts over to his ears. "Patton will help him."

"So what did Virgey do, Dee Dee?" Remus asks.

"Ran off to the subconscious," Deceit says. He feels exhausted. "I managed to catch him. I- I thought I was getting through to him, but he shook me off and ran deeper into the subconscious. I couldn't- you know how cold affects me-" Remus and Logan nod in understanding. "I knew I couldn't find him on my own, so I came back."

"You left him?" Wrath demands. His pupils have come back, but the effect is all the more unsettling.

"I didn't have a choice!" Deceit shoots back, tears pricking his eyes. "Do you think I _wanted_ to leave my boyfriend alone in the subconscious? I couldn't- even just how long I was there, I could feel my mind shutting down, I can't _handle_ how fucking cold it is, I-" Remus leans over and wipes his cheeks. Only then does Deceit realize he's started to cry.

"Don't cry, Dee Dee," Remus says softly. "We know. Wrath knows." He glares at Wrath, who flushes bright red.

"Sorry, Dee," Wrath says. "I'm just- I think I'm mad at myself."

"You aren't the only one," Deceit sighs. 

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Roman asks, springing to his feet. "We're going after him, aren't we?"

"Of course we are!" Deceit exclaims.

"Should you stay here?" Thomas asks. Deceit bristles. "I know, I know, but- you just said it yourself, you can't handle how cold it is. I don't think I can go..."

"You can't," Logan says at once. "Not into your own subconscious. I think your mind would end up rejecting you, and you would end up out here again."

"No," Deceit says, with a firm shake of his head. "I understand what you're saying, but no. If I'm not there..."

"If Dee Dee's not with us, we might not ever find Virgil," Remus finishes, his face solemn.

The thought horrifies Deceit.


	9. the hunt begins

Logan takes charge.

It is only logical, he supposes. Wrath keeps pacing up and down Thomas's living room, Patton's voice anchoring him to reality. Deceit looks up miserably from a swaddled lump of blankets, Remus squeezing one of his gloved hands. Roman keeps running his hands through his hair, over and over, as he tries to calm Thomas down.

Meanwhile, Logan _knows_ the countdown has started and they only have so much time before Virgil is lost to the subconscious forever. Thomas will always have Anxiety. That's just how this works.

But there is no guarantee that Thomas will always have _Virgil_ and the thought makes Logan's newly discovered heart hurt.

"Let's go," he says. "Deceit, when we get there, do you think you can create something to tie us all together, like you did in Remus's side of the imagination? I do not think it would be a good idea if any of us split up."

"I can," Deceit says slowly. His eyes are red-rimmed. "Remus would probably be better at it, though."

"It won't even be intestines!" Remus chirps.

"Thank you," Logan says dryly. Roman looks revolted at the thought. Logan turns to Thomas. "Thomas, you need to stay here. Try to stay calm, if you can. It might help for _you_ to mentally reach out to Virgil, but don't try to follow us. Focus on how you feel about Virgil and he should be able to feel it."

"Okay," Thomas says. He draws his knees up on the sofa, arms circling them. "I uh, I'll watch reruns or something?"

"That sounds like an appropriate plan at the moment," Logan says. "We will try to update you, if we can. I am not sure how-"

"One of us detaches from the rope and immediately rises up," Deceit interjects. "If you do it fast enough, there shouldn't be a problem."

"Well," Logan says. "There you go. Deceit, either take a blanket with you or conjure up more appropriate clothing. You, of all people, need to be kept warm." Deceit concentrates, and Logan can see his usual outfit has been replaced with multiple yellow and black sweaters, as well as a hoodie. It's patched with yellow plaid and achingly reminiscent of Virgil's. Deceit flushes red when he meets Logan's gaze, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Are we gonna go or not?" Wrath demands. 

"We are," Logan says calmly. "Now, in fact. We will see you soon, Thomas. With Virgil." _I hope,_ he adds, in the privacy of his own head. He is under no illusion that this will be easy. The subconscious is not an easy place to navigate at the best of times. When your own Anxiety has fled into it, it is _definitely_ not the best of times.

_It was the best of times, it was the worst of times-_ Perhaps Charles Dickens had it right after all, in some ways. Logan would say that his new relationship with Remus is one of the best things to ever happen to him. He never thought he'd feel that way. And with _Remus_, of all people.

But if Virgil is gone...

No. Logan shakes his head. They'll get him back. There is no other option.

"Now," Logan says, and sinks down into the bitter cold of the subconscious, hand-in-hand with Remus and Deceit.

"Here!" Remus says brightly and an instant later, thick gold wire circles everyone's waist. It is surprisingly warm to the touch, Logan discovers when he tentatively reaches down and brushes a finger across the metallic surface.

"Lead on, Dee Dee," Remus says. "You saw him last."

"That way," Deceit says, pointing into the fog. "I- I can sense him. He's that way."

Logan gives up the front to Deceit, following behind him and praying that he knows where he's going. That his connection with Virgil isn't the result of desperation talking.

Thomas can't lose _all_ of his Sides to his own subconscious, after all.


	10. an old friend

Virgil only stops running when a stitch makes itself painfully known in his side. Bent over, his hands on his knees, he pants for breath, guilt suddenly slicking the back of his throat and stinging his eyes.

Dee was only trying to _help_ and he just...ran away from him. He just ran away from his _boyfriend_. Although he can't imagine why Deceit would want to _stay_ that way. Surely he'll see that Virgil is the worst choice out of all the Sides now. Maybe- maybe he'll even like Virgil's replacement instead. The thought makes his heart ache and he drops to the ground, burying his face in his knees and trying to pretend that his shoulders aren't shaking with the force of his barely suppressed sobs.

Footsteps echo in the fog, making their way closer to him, and he freezes, suddenly _very_ aware how the purple in his jacket blinks a vivid beacon. There are people- sides- barely there figments- in the subconscious that he emphatically does _not_ want to meet.

"Sup gurl?" A very familiar voice asks above his head, followed by a noisy suck on a Starbucks straw. Startled, Virgil's eyes fly up to meet the mirrored sunglasses and leather jacket of Sleep, Starbucks drink loosely clasped in one hand.

"Remy?" He asks in disbelief.

"The one and only," Remy says, doing a little pirouette in place. "What are _you_ doing here, of all places? You know you don't belong in the subconscious!" Virgil flinches, stumbling his way to his feet. He hunches his shoulders.

"Actually-" he starts to say, before Remy cuts him off.

"Don't even," he says. "I know you're gonna try to pull some martyr bullshit, but this time, you don't even have the excuse of thinking no one likes you! You know they do, bitch, why are you here? Word through the subconscious is that you even got with Dee!"

"I did," Virgil admits, his face flushed painfully red. "But I-" He stops, chewing on his bottom lip. Remy reaches out and tugs his lip free.

"Out with it," Remy demands.

"Thomas wants to treat his depression," Virgil says, all in a rush. Remy raises an eyebrow.

"And?" He asks, sipping his drink. "He should, gurl, that shit's been messing with all of us."

"But- anxiety's a disorder, t-" Virgil starts to say, before Remy puts a finger to his lips, his eyes narrowing over the tops of his sunglasses.

"Now I _know_ you aren't trying to say that Thomas just sees you as a disease," Remy says, his voice quiet but intent. "And if he does, _I'll_ have some words with him, I don't care what it takes."

"He hasn't," Virgil assures the other Side. "He hasn't said so, anyway. But I just..." He stuffs his hands in his hoodie pockets. "What if I just make everything worse?" He asks in a painfully small voice. "Wouldn't it be better for- for someone new? Someone...better?"

"Who says they'd be better?" Remy retorts without blinking. Virgil just stares at him.

"Huh?" He manages to ask, confused.

"Who says they'd be better?" Remy repeats. "It took _you_ ages to warm up to everyone, and for them to understand that you were important. Now, sure, they know anxiety is important, but they know _you're_ important. _Virgil_ is important. If there's a new Anxiety on the block, you don't think they'd have a hard time accepting him and vice versa? How do you think _that_ would play out for Thomas's well-being? Not to mention, there's no guarantee a new Anxiety would even _want_ to work with everyone else. _You_ do. _Virgil_ does."

"I..." Virgil trails off, his mouth hanging open. "I didn't think of it like that," he admits, reddening. Remy's face softens.

"Of course you didn't, bitch, that's why you've got me," Remy says affectionately. "I know we don't see each other much, but I still care about you, Virge. And that's exactly it, too. I care about Virgil. _You_. And so does everyone else. You know how I know that?"

"Uh, no?" Virgil says. Remy grins crookedly.

"Because they all came to the subconscious to find you."


	11. hand holding

Patton's hand feels like it's being crushed, but he doesn't dare speak up, not right now. He knows that Wrath will feel horrible if he realizes what he's doing, but Patton can't even imagine how he feels. After all, Wrath must have known Virgil for so much longer before Virgil left the others. How must it feel, getting him back for one brief, glittering moment, before he's off again, sprinting into the subconscious in a misguided effort to protect Thomas and the others?

"Patton," Roman says, leaning toward his ear. "You look like you're about to pass out. What is wrong?"

Patton offers up a sheepish smile.

"Nothing?" He tries to squeak out, but Deceit turns back and frowns, tongue briefly tasting the air. His shoulders sag.

"It's nothing really," he says. "Just- well- you're hurting my fingers a bit, that's all." Wrath drops his fingers like he's been scalded and while Patton welcomes the rush of feeling back into his fingertips, he misses the warmth of Wrath's hand.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wrath asks roughly. "I- I wouldn't have-" He stops, looking conflicted.

"I didn't want you to let go," Patton admits. Wrath's face flushes red. 

"Do- do you want me to hold your hand again?" He asks, in an embarrassed mumble. Patton nods fervently.

"Just- not so tight," he says, with a grin.

"If you two are done?" Logan asks, looking back at them and adjusting his tie. His words are heavily belied by the still vivid hickeys visible on his neck.

"Any sign of him?" Patton asks. Deceit sighs, shaking his head.

"No," he answers heavily. "That's good and bad. Good because it means he probably hasn't run into anyone or anything meaning him harm. Bad because, well." He scratches the back of his neck. "You know why."

"We'll find him, Dee, I'm sure of it," Patton says, encouraging. Deceit opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then shuts it with a click.

"Come on," Remus whines, tugging at Logan's arm. "Let's _go_. I don't like it here."

"Why not?" Roman starts to ask, before the ground shifts under their feet, jagged spiderweb cracks spreading across it at a frightening pace. Patton stares down in horror.

"...Oh," Roman says in a tiny voice. "Frick."

"_Run_," Deceit says, and suddenly, Patton is jostled about, barely able to keep up, until Wrath scoops him up in his arms and carries him bridal-style. Ominous creaking and cracking sounds with every precarious footstep until finally, they land on solid ground, panting for breath and shaky-legged.

"What was _that_?" Roman gasps, hands on his knees.

"The subconscious isn't always the most stable of places," Deceit hisses. He looks agitated. "Remember that."

Patton doesn't think he can ever forget.


	12. panic attack

"Because they all came to the subconscious to find you."

Virgil stares at Remy in utter horror, the words buzzing in his ears. He thumps to his knees, his legs unwilling to take his weight anymore. Suddenly, his hoodie might as well be tissue paper for all the protection it offers against the chill in the air.

He looks up and can see Remy's lips are moving, but no sound makes it through the cotton muffling his ears. _I'm having a panic attack_ drifts dreamily through the back of his mind. His arms wrap tightly around himself, hard enough to hurt, and somewhere far away, he can feel the tiny, shallow breaths hitching at his chest. Lightheadedness spreads through him like a fog.

Fingers- cold yet firm- on his pulse point, tapping out a familiar rhythm and sound rushes back in, Remy loudly counting four-seven-eight, his eyes wide with worry behind his sunglasses.

"I'm okay," Virgil manages to croak and Remy stops, drawing his hand back.

"Whoa," he says in relief. "Gurl, you were _out_ of it, you didn't respond at all, no matter what I said, so I thought I'd try that, I remembered Dee using it..."

"Thank you," Virgil mumbles. "You- I dunno if I would have come out of it."

"You would," Remy assures him. "But I don't know when, and you don't have a lot of time."

"For what?" Virgil asks, befuddled. Remy just stares at him.

"Bitch, what do you think?" He demands. "To meet up with the others and get the hell out of here. The subconscious is no place for Sides like you and them."

"What about you?" Virgil asks defensively, huddling in his hoodie.

"I'm...a figment," Remy decides. "A function. Thomas _has_ to sleep. And I don't hang out here _all_ the time. I spend a lot of time in the Imagination. I just happened to be hanging out here for a while when I found you. But _you_-" He shakes his head. "And the others... Nah, you all need to say sayonara and thanks for the fish."

"Er, what?" Virgil asks blankly. Remy snorts.

"To _leave_," he says. "Please tell me I got through to you at all. Come on."

"You...did," Virgil says in surprise. "I- I don't want another Anxiety if they're going to be worse." He looks down, fiddling with his hoodie strings. "Maybe... maybe it can help me with my anxiety?"

"Exactly," Remy says. "Thomas getting treatment could _help_ you. That only benefits you _and_ Thomas."

Shame clogs Virgil's throat, thick and cloying, so he just nods. Remy seems to understand as he poofs his Starbucks cup into thin air.

"Let's go," Remy says. "I think I can find them for you. Get my Sides detector working." He taps the side of his sunglasses.

"Thank you, Remy," Virgil says, as they walk back the way Virgil had come. "For- for everything. It means a lot. I uh- I guess this was pretty stupid." He flushes.

"You just have chaotic dumbass energy," Remy tells him affectionately. "You just need to listen to the people around you and believe what they're saying. Easier said than done, I know, yadda yadda. But it's still true."

"You're right," Virgil admits. By now, the red staining his cheeks is almost painful.

Shouts sound in the distance and Virgil stiffens. Remy's eyes widen and he goes pale.

"So you know how Wrath isn't the only deadly sin around?" Remy asks, in a deceptively casual tone. "If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say they just met one or more of the others."

"Is- is that bad?" Virgil asks, his heart beating in his throat like a wild thing.

"That depends on how pissed off they are at Wrath," Remy says. "But... Yeah, that's probably bad. We should hurry."

Well, Remy didn't have to tell _him_ twice.


	13. you'll never take us alive

Wrath doesn't know how to feel, now that he's set Patton back down on his feet. Their hands are still intertwined, and Patton keeps giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. When the ground started cracking, he just _reacted_, and embarrassment still colors his cheeks. Patton doesn't seem to mind, though. He tries to take solace in that.

"How far can one Side go?" Roman grumbles, peering through the dark.

"It's Virgil," Wrath says, raising an eyebrow. "He embodies fight or _flight_. How far do you think?"

"Oh, yeah," Roman says, his face reddening.

"Well, well, well, isn't this a touching scene," an all-too-familiar voice drawls out of the misty darkness. Wrath freezes, subtly tugging at the connection around their waists to pull them all closer to him. Deceit and Remus obey with alacrity, also familiar with just who happens to be out there. Remus has one arm not-so-subtly draped around Logan's shoulders, molding a confused Logic to his side.

Envy materializes out of the darkness, a cocky grin tugging at his lips at the twin gasps from Patton and Roman. He looks like he's taken costume-making classes from Remus, as his outfit is more flounce and frill than fabric, all done up in poisonous green and pinkish purple. His brother, Jealousy, slinks up on the side, baseball bat propped over one shoulder as he pops his gum.

"So glad to see you," Wrath says flatly. "Not."

"Look at _you_ getting airs," Envy hisses venomously. "Just because _you're_ a Side-" Jealousy tugs him back, as if he's afraid that if Envy takes one more step, he'll somehow become assimilated into the group. Knowing Jealousy, that's exactly what he fears.

"Hey, not my fault Thomas has all that anger bubbling under the surface," Wrath says, with a deliberately casual shrug. Patton looks up at him, worry blooming in his eyes, and Wrath tries not to let his grip tighten again.

"Why don't you introduce us to your new _friends_?" Jealousy sneers.

"Envy and Jealousy," Wrath says. "They're twins."

"Like me and Ro," Remus pipes up, only slightly subdued. Jealousy glares at this reminder that they aren't unique. Of course, they started out life as twins. Creativity is...unusual in that respect.

"What are _you_ doing in the subconscious?" Jealousy demands. "You don't belong here."

"Anxiety," Wrath says reluctantly. He refuses to use Virgil's name around these two, and he hopes the others follow his lead. Patton looks like he wants to say something, but quickly clamps his lips shut. "He panicked. Have you seen him?"

"Like we'd tell _you_," Envy spits. "But no, we haven't. Do you think we'd just leave him alone?"

Wrath decides against telling the truth that yes, that's exactly what he thinks. Virgil is _strong_, self-preservation at its basest. Unless they were sure they would win, they wouldn't come up to him at all.

Which begs the question why they've decided to come up to a much bigger group. He's not afraid of the other sins. The others don't pose much of a challenge, anyway. Sloth sleeps all the time. Lust is usually too busy finagling his way into Roman's kingdom for a bit of fun. Same with Gluttony, although all he wants food.

Wrath barely manages to keep the frown off his face. _Where's Pride?_

"Who are _you_?" Roman blurts out behind him. _Well, that answers that question_-

"Surely it's obvious," Pride answers, with a haughty sniff. "Then again, perhaps I'm only recognizable to you when you aren't _broken_." Roman makes a low, hurt sound, deep in his throat, and only Logan's grip on Remus keeps him from lunging.

"Sorry, was I supposed to recognize you?" Remus asks, tilting his head to one side. "Oh, now I remember!" He says, snapping his fingers. "You just look so much like a _bitch_, I forgot."

"Why, you _little_-" Pride shouts, and swings at him. Wrath easily steps in the way, blocking the punch one-handed. A feral grin spreads across his face.

"I don't think so," he says.

"HEY!" He hears someone shout and to his eternal relief, it's Virgil's voice. "Get the _fuck_ away from them." His voice distorts into Tempest Tongue, and Wrath watches all three of the other sins shiver at the sound.

"Yah, what he said!" Sleep adds, to Wrath's surprise. "Sup, bitches."


	14. tempest tongue

"Oh, isn't that cute," Pride sneers, after a faltering recovery. He stands next to Envy, his fists clenched. "What a _touching_ reunion."

"Isn't it?" Remy answers brightly, before Virgil can say anything. "Shame you're still around."

"If you weren't a _function_-" Pride starts. Virgil steps forward.

"_Get away from my family,_" he says, his voice echoing and distorting. "_You don't belong within a hundred miles of them._"

"We matter, too," Jealousy protests, hefting his baseball bat. "What, you don't think Thomas needs us? I'd like to see him last a hot minute without the rest of us sins!"

"Of course he needs you," Deceit says sweetly. "Right here, in the subconscious." Envy's face darkens and Virgil darts forward, so fast he's nearly a blur.

"_I don't think so,_" he hisses. Envy flinches back, before straightening, unnecessarily fussing with some of the frills on his sleeves.

"And what of the rest of you?" Pride says in an oily voice. "Do you all follow _Anxiety?_"

"Well, he's a lot more fun to follow around than a _bitch_ so yeah, duh," Remus says casually. His morning star appears out of nowhere and he starts idly swinging it, staring the other three sins in the face without blinking.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Pride scoffs.

"You know what it can do to you, so sure," Remus says. "Even better, you know what _they_ can do to you." He indicates Virgil and Deceit with a jerk of his thumb and Pride falters.

"Come now, Pride, surely you remember the things that go bump in the night," Deceit purrs. His eye glows bright, unsettling yellow. When he smiles, Virgil can see the tips of his fangs.

"_Try me,_" Virgil invites, his voice still distorted.

"Oh, for fuck sake," Jealousy seethes. "They haven't been around here in _forever_, Envy, they can't-" Before he can finish his sentence, boiling green tentacles erupt out of the darkness, clapping over his mouth and writhing over him. Envy stares in horror, as yellow eyes blink themselves to life around him, the long, thin tail of a snake digging into his neck. Virgil grins emptily at Pride, who has the sense to look uneasy.

"_I'd look away, Pat,_" Virgil says, before he lifts one hand and eight spider legs wrap around Pride, dragging him back into the dark. He hears a choked-off whimper from Patton's direction that makes his heart hurt, but it's the only way to disrupt Pride enough to leave them alone for a while. Beside him, he can hear Deceit breathing heavily, focusing all his energy on Envy. Remus cackles with delight, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, as Jealousy crumples to the ground.

"_Leave my family alone,_" Virgil states, and strides off without a backward glance. The others follow, including Remy, who slants him an admiring look over his sunglasses.

"Damn, babe," Remy states. Virgil flushes crimson, just as Deceit catches up with him and flings his arms around Virgil's neck.

"Never do that again," Deceit scolds him in a breathless whisper, peppering tiny kisses everywhere he can reach. "Please, storm cloud, I- I can't take it."

"I'm so sorry," Virgil says, his voice wobbling. "Remy- Remy helped me see some things."

"I reminded him there's no guarantee a new Anxiety would be better," Remy says nonchalantly, sipping on another Starbucks drink he plucked out of thin air.

"That and what you said, Dee," Virgil mumbles, his face reddening.

"Shall we depart the subconscious then?" Logan questions. "I imagine that Thomas would like an update."

Virgil opens his mouth to answer then freezes, nearly sagging to his knees as awareness of his room filters into his mind.

"Oh, _no_," he breathes. "Thomas, you _idiot_-"

"What?" Deceit demands.

"What did you tell him to do?" Virgil asks.

"Stay in his house and wait," Logan answers promptly. "And that he should not try to follow us into the subconscious."

"Well, he only half followed your directions," Virgil says, giving them all a bleak look.

"What do you mean?" Patton asks. He's pale, but determined.

"He's in my room," Virgil whispers.


	15. too much pressure to take/i'm about to break

"Thomas, you need to stay here," Logan directs. Thomas frowns, but doesn't say anything. "Try to stay calm, if you can," Logan advises. "It might help for _you_ to mentally reach out to Virgil, but don't try to follow us. Focus on how you feel about Virgil and he should be able to feel it."

"Okay," Thomas says uncertainly. He draws his knees up on the sofa, arms circling them. "I uh, I'll watch reruns or something?"

"That sounds like an appropriate plan at the moment," Logan tells him. "We will try to update you, if we can. I am not sure how-"

"One of us detaches from the rope and immediately rises up," Deceit interrupts. "If you do it fast enough, there shouldn't be a problem."

"Well," Logan says. "There you go. Deceit, either take a blanket with you or conjure up more appropriate clothing. You, of all people, need to be kept warm." Thomas watches in subdued fascination as Deceit's more formal clothing dissolves into yellow and black sweaters, and a plaid-patched hoodie. Thomas's heart aches, seeing the yellow plaid patches. Deceit flushes bright red.

"Are we gonna go or not?" Wrath demands. 

"We are," Logan says calmly. "Now, in fact. We will see you soon, Thomas. With Virgil." _I sure hope so,_ Thomas thinks. He doesn't feel anxious, but he knows that he should. It's like there's an empty spot in his brain, or maybe his heart, and it _hurts_.

"Now," Logan says, and sinks down, hand-in-hand with Remus and Deceit. The others follow suit until finally, Thomas is alone in his apartment.

"Okay," Thomas says shakily. "This is fine. I can do this." He turns the TV on, staring blankly at the screen. _What if they can't find him?_ circles in his head. _What if they get lost themselves? Would they all just...fade away? What will happen to me if that happens? What-_

"Okay, calm down," he says aloud, but it doesn't do much to quell the sudden surge of anxiety-provoking thoughts. He isn't sure if they're a good or a bad thing. Does it mean that Virgil is nearby?

"Virge," he says, trying to mentally reach out to the purple-clad Side. He doesn't feel anything in particular, but he refuses to give up. "Virge, please come back. You are so needed and you are loved. You're _my_ Anxiety and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Nothing. Although he thinks that he senses some kind of surprise, somewhere way down deep. Is that Virgil? Or is he just assigning meaning to anything and everything?

He perks up as a sudden thought strikes him. What if he tries to find Virgil's room again? He was fine last time, when he went there with the others. And it helped, he knows it did. Virgil tried to duck out then, but their presence made him come back. Maybe if the others are having a hard time, he can help compel Virgil to return. 

Something about Virgil's room nags at him, prodding him to reconsider, but Thomas ignores it. He has to get Virgil back. He doesn't know what he'd do without his Anxiety and Virgil is the only one who can fill that spot in his heart. Swallowing hard, he stands up, concentrating on the place where all the things he normally feels anxious about reside.

Familiar walls rise up around him, but they're wreathed and choked with black smog. Thomas frowns, looking around at the spiderweb-festooned room. It once again looks like a replica of his living room. No one's there, but he expected that.

"Virgil?" He calls into the darkness. Unlike last time, the room is achingly cold and he can see his breath puff out in front of him. He wraps his arms around him, wishing he'd thought to grab a jacket.

Nothing. The darkness intensifies. Thomas shakes his head, dizziness overwhelming him.

_What if you just sat down now?_ His mind suggests. He follows suit before he even notices what he's doing, his legs folding beneath him. 

_You're worthless,_ his brain says conversationally. Thomas shakes his head in dozy negation. _Yes, you are,_ his mind insists. _Look at you. You know anyone else with Sides like yours? Do you think that makes you unique? It just makes you a freak. Some freaky guy with freaky little Sides. You aren't special. You're useless. This isn't a job. This isn't anything. You're a leech on your friends. Do you think Joan and Talyn and the others actually like you? They just tolerate you. They laugh at you behind your back._

_You should just give up,_ his brain continues, inexorable. _Give up everything. It would be easy. You have a bunch of pills in the bathroom cabinet, don't you? Household cleaners? Knives? You can do it. Or maybe you're too useless to even do _that_ right._

Mouth slack, eyes dull, Thomas listens as his brain browbeats him more and more.

The shadows swarm, drowning him in darkness.


	16. i can reach out

Virgil runs so fast, it feels like he's left his lungs back in the subconscious. His mind feels like a balloon about to burst, ripe and malignant with the knowledge that Thomas is _in his room alone_-

The others fast behind him, Virgil kicks his door open. It hits the wall and bounces back, hinges creaking, as Virgil shoves it open wide, letting the others file in behind him.

"Oh, _babe_," Remy says, his voice heavy with sympathy. Thomas looks up dully from his slumped position and Virgil is hard put not to recoil. The last time Thomas visited his room, he seemed barely affected. Virgil doesn't know if that's because he had Logan, Roman, and Patton or not, but it doesn't matter this time. Because now, Thomas has eye shadow streaks under both eyes so badly, he resembles a crying raccoon. Shadows swarm him like a live thing, but he doesn't seem aware of them.

"_Get away from him!_" Virgil demands, his voice so distorted, the room trembles. For a moment, he thinks it might work.

Then the shadows rush over Thomas even more, trebling in intensity, and Thomas curls into a ball, tears rolling thickly down his face. Virgil swallows, feeling helpless. What's he supposed to do? He doesn't know how to get rid of them. He never has. If Tempest Tongue only makes things worse, then-

"Breathe," Deceit says in his ear. Only then does Virgil realize he's begun to hyperventilate. "It will be okay. I promise. We will find a way to help Thomas."

"But-" Virgil protests weakly. Deceit wraps several arms around his waist, pulling him close.

"No but's," he soothes. "We can do it. All of us can do it. Thomas will be okay."

It's chance that Virgil looks over Deceit's shoulder, but when he does, his mouth drops open. With every reassuring word that leaves Deceit's mouth, the shadows flinch.

"Dee," he breathes. "Dee, that's it."

"What?" Deceit asks, confused. Virgil raises his voice, so everyone can hear him.

"Reassurance," he says. "We need to reassure Thomas that- that it will be okay. He can beat this." Virgil approaches a rocking Thomas, dropping to his knees and gently touching Thomas's shoulder. Thomas flinches but turns toward him, eyes widening when he sees who it is.

"VIrge?" He asks hoarsely. "Is that- is that really you?"

"It is," Virgil answers firmly. "Thomas, I- I am so sorry for running off the way I did. I should have known that you would never want to do something that would get rid of me. I _do_ know that. I just panicked. This depression thing? I know it's really bad and scary right now, but it won't always be. You can beat this. And we'll all help you. You can feel better. You won't feel like this forever, no matter how much it feels like you will. I can't promise _when_ you'll feel better. Depression doesn't work that way. But I can promise that I'll help you every step of the way."

"You're doing so good, kiddo," Patton encourages next. Eye shadow smudges his eyes, but he seems unaware of it as he kneels next to Thomas. "Emotions can be hard and scary. Especially the ones that depression bring. But there's help for that. And we're going to get you that help. You have an appointment with your doctor already and that's what they're for! To help you."

"Depression is a one-trick pony that lives to convince you that you're worthless," Roman chimes in. "But you aren't. You have so much potential, Thomas, you're simply brimming with it! And I know that you can beat this. We _all_ can beat this!"

"You're amazing," Virgil says. "You're so amazing and you're important and you can do this, Thomas. Reach out. I promise. It will be all right."

The shadows shiver until finally, with one final wrenching heave-

They melt into nothingness.

The room brightens with purple fairy lights and Virgil watches in breathless relief as the eye shadow under Thomas's eyes fades away. Thomas looks around as if waking up from a bad dream.

"What- what happened?" He slurs. His eyes fall on Virgil and brighten. "Virge! You're- you're back?" Virgil falls into Thomas's arms, not sure whether he's laughing or crying.

"Yeah," he tells Thomas. "I'm back. I'm so sorry. Deceit and Remy talked sense into me."

"Remy?" Thomas asks in confusion. Remy sketches a wave.

"Sup, babe, I'm Sleep," Remy says.

"Huh," Thomas says, dazed. "It's nice to meet you."

"Well, this has been fun, but I've gotta go," Remy says, summoning another Starbucks drink. "Gotta make sure Lust and Gluttony haven't wrecked the Imagination. Again."

"Thank you," Roman says gratefully. "Those two-" He shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it, Thomas," Deceit says softly, noticing Thomas's furrowed brows. "Save it for another day."

"Let's get out of here," Virgil says. He pulls Thomas to his feet. "Even without depression, hanging out around here probably isn't good for the rest of you."

"I don't know, I kind of like it," Remus remarks. "It makes me think about butts."

Virgil puts his face in his hands.


	17. full disclosure

Thomas's living room is blessedly warm after the chill of the subconscious and Virgil's room. Deceit wraps himself around Virgil like a limpet, refusing to let go, although he knows that Virgil won't leave like that again. His mind knows it, but his heart knowing it is a different matter.

"Are you all right, Thomas?" Logan inquires stiffly. Thomas hesitates, then nods. Deceit wonders if he really means it. Doubt hangs queasily in the air.

"What were you _thinking_?" Virgil bursts out, his voice cracking and too loud. "My room wasn't safe-"

"Well, I wasn't thinking, so there's that," Thomas says ruefully, ruffling his hair with one hand. "I just- I thought maybe I could get closer, I guess? Like you'd hear me better. And I remembered when you tried to duck out last time, and showing up in your room helped then."

"Thomas, even if I couldn't consciously hear you, I could still understand how you felt," Virgil says. Red flowers across his cheeks.

"I didn't know that," Thomas says, sighing. "I couldn't remember why it was a bad idea, but I showed up and looked around and then- I don't really remember what happened."

"Thomas, don't lie to us," Deceit says quietly. "Not about this. Not now."

"I thought I was worthless," Thomas mumbles. "Freaky. A leech on my friends. I thought- I haven't thought about this in so long, since high school, I think, and even then, it wasn't like a serious thought? But I kept thinking how I could- how I could kill myself." He looks down, picking at a loose thread in his shirt.

"Depression is a vile beast," Roman says heavily. "If I could, I'd slay it myself."

"But it doesn't work like that," Patton says, giving Roman a soft look. "It's not so simple."

"If it did, it wouldn't exist anymore," Wrath mutters. Deceit tangles his fingers with Virgil's, squeezing them reassuringly.

"You all helped," Thomas continues. "I- I don't know how, I just...felt better. Like sunshine after a thunderstorm. Or, well, a rainbow."

"Hope," Patton says, with a smile. "You have hope."

"Yeah," Thomas says in wonder. "Thanks, guys."

"I know what else you can have," Remus starts to say, then quiets down when Logan gives him a peck on the cheek.

"I guess you all know why I ran off," Virgil says, shifting in his seat. "I'm really sorry. I thought- I thought you'd all be better off without me. That a new Anxiety would be better. Remy told me that was bullshit."

"Remy is Sleep, right?" Thomas clarifies. Virgil nods.

"Deceit told me that getting help for depression could help my anxiety," Virgil says. "That I'm not just a disorder. And Remy reminded me that- anxiety is important, but _Virgil_ is the one who makes everyone better, who works as a team."

"And he's right," Deceit says firmly. "As am I."

"We love you so much, Virge," Thomas says, sincerity ringing in every syllable. "Now, uh-" He looks around. "Wanna watch Steven Universe?"

"Please," Virgil says, with a shaky laugh. "I'm not good at all this emotional stuff."

"I don't know," Deceit murmurs, as everyone else either sits down or decides to help Thomas make snacks. "You seem pretty good at it to me."

And he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Virgil's cheek, right by his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, when depression was 'talking' to thomas, i miiight have referenced danny phantom lmao


	18. if you ask for help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remus has p bad intrusive thoughts in this chapter so be warned!

Remus sits on the floor, rocking back and forth against Logan's legs. Thomas's doctor appointment is in only a few minutes, and they all feel strained. The impromptu Steven Universe marathon helped, but now the day of reckoning is here and-

_What if a truck runs into the clinic and crushes Thomas's legs?_ Remus's brain chimes in cheerfully. _What if a shooter comes in and sprays the whole waiting room with bullets? What if someone recognizes Thomas and kidnaps him in the parking lot? What if-_

"Remus," Logan says, his voice quiet and steady. Remus latches onto it like a drowning man in a pool of boiling hot lava, bubbling away his skin and bones. "Focus on me, all right? Deep breaths. In and out." He demonstrates and Remus does his best to follow, his chest hitching. Virgil and Deceit sit on either side of him, the touch of their legs against his grounding him.

"Sorry," he whispers. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

"No need to be sorry," Logan soothes. His brother kneels in front of him, hands resting on Remus's wrists for a brief moment.

"You're doing great, Remus," Roman says softly. "You, too, Virgil." Right, Virgil. Virgil must be freaking out now. Remus is so fucking selfish, taking all this attention for himself. He rocks harder, the rhythm growing unsteady, until Logan places his hands on his shoulders and he stills.

"Don't pay attention to Virgil," Logan orders, his voice just as quiet as before. "Virgil will be fine, and so will you."

"What about Thomas?" Remus asks. "What if the doctor's a serial killer in disguise and rips out his heart?" His fingers come up, automatically tracing the faded snarl of scar on his chest. "What if-"

"The doctor will be fine, too," Logan says calmly. "We have seen this doctor before, multiple times. He has always treated Thomas appropriately and professionally. I am sure he will do the same now."

Remus tunes in to Thomas's thoughts, doing his best not to influence them. Thomas doesn't need to think about swallowing the tongue dispensers or cracking his head on the corner of the cabinet or jamming the ear thingy into his ear canal so far, it ruptures his ear drum. 

"Hi," Thomas says shyly, as the doctor raps on the door and comes in. Remus pulls away as if he's slammed his hand, palm down, on a burning hot stove and unpeeled all his skin, before he can blurt out something about the doctor's ass.

"Doctor's here," he reports, as if the others aren't fully aware of that. Wrath keeps pacing, while Patton tries to encourage him to sit down. It's not working, though.

_Wash my hands and gargle with the hand sanitizer, jam the stethoscope down my throat and stick the prongs in my eyes, chew on the medical masks-_

Like he's swimming underwater, his ribs cracked into smithereens by another giant octopus, Remus can vaguely hear Thomas opening up about his depression, skirting around the suicidal thoughts, but speaking more honestly about his symptoms and struggles since his school years. He can feel Logan's pride, radiating like a burst of sunlight, and it makes his cheeks warm.

No one speaks until Thomas gets home and summons them. His cheeks are flushed, but he's smiling, and relief crushes Remus like a tidal wave.

"I did it," Thomas says, and the others swarm him with congratulatory remarks and hugs. Remus hangs back, chewing on a thumbnail. "He's going to send me to a psychiatrist," Thomas adds. "But he took me seriously and thinks that anti depressants and maybe therapy would help. Thanks, guys. I couldn't have done it without you. All of you." Thomas looks around the room, gaze encompassing Remus, and Remus feels his stomach fill with champagne bubbles, fizzing and fizzing like he's going to explode.

"We're so proud of you," Patton says warmly. Remus nods enthusiastically in agreement.

"I'm also proud of Remus," Logan says. Remus looks at him in surprise, scooting closer to his boyfriend. "I know it was difficult for you not to blurt out your intrusive thoughts and yet you did your best to help Thomas."

"Good job, Remus," Deceit says, bestowing a warm look on him. "And good job, Virgil, allowing Thomas to talk about his struggles."

"It was hard," Virgil admits, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets. "But uh, I'm glad we did it, I guess?"

"So am I," Thomas says. "Thank you."


	19. cuddle piles come in threes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thus we come to the end? i guess?
> 
> but like, i still intend to write in this universe, i just dunno how long each installment will be ♡

Virgil lounges on Deceit's bed, resting against his boyfriend's chest. Deceit's gloves are carefully laid to one side, and his fingers card through the fluffiness of Virgil's hair in soft, soothing motions.

"This is nice," Virgil murmurs sleepily. "I like it a lot."

"So do I," Deceit whispers back, his breath stirring Virgil's hair and sending a delightful shiver up his spine. "It feels...calm. And it is nice, to be able to once again sleep in my own room. Not that the sofa was not comfortable with you there, but-" He shrugs.

"Agreed," Virgil says, emphatic. Now that the shadows have disappeared for the time being, everyone's room is safe again. Even Virgil's real bedroom, which he investigates every day to keep it that way. As much as he loves Deceit's room, he still enjoys drifting to sleep beneath his own purple fairy lights, knowing his pet spider is safe and happy. The shadows didn't affect her, but that hasn't stopped him from worrying about it.

"Your thoughts are so loud, love," Deceit murmurs. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Virgil decides. "Just thinking about how everything is safe again. And Thomas started taking meds yesterday."

"He did," Deceit says carefully. "So far, so good. How do you feel about them?"

"Okay? I guess?" Virgil says. "I don't really know yet. I don't feel _worse_. And- and I don't feel like I'm going away. Like...ducking out."

"Good," Deceit says, stroking his hair back and kissing the crown of his head. "If you ever do feel worse, tell me or Thomas. It could mean that it's negatively affecting Thomas, as well, and that he needs a new medication or a dose adjustment."

"Okay," Virgil says, nodding. A knock sounds on the door and Virgil freezes.

"Come in," Deceit calls. Roman slips in, twisting the hem of his shirt with both hands.

"Is something wrong?" Virgil blurts out. Roman frowns, chewing on his bottom lip.

"I don't know," he admits. "Nothing's wrong with Thomas or the others, I'm just- I'm afraid something's wrong with _me_."

"Like what?" Deceit asks, cautious.

"Well..." Roman trails off.

"And do sit down," Deceit says, nodding to a chair. Now that depression has no longer hit so hard, the room no longer looks like a whirlwind has just passed through it. Roman plops in a chair like a marionette whose strings have just been cut.

"It's just-" Roman stops himself again.

"You can tell us anything," Virgil reassures him. "I promise."

"Well, you and Deceit are so happy together, and my brother's somehow ended up with _Logan_, and even Patton has found happiness with Wrath, and I just- I have nobody. But... I'm happy that way? I don't _want_ to be with someone, I don't _like_ anyone that way, but I feel like I _should_-"

"Why?" Deceit asks calmly. Roman splutters, red-faced.

"I- I'm the _passionate_ side, aren't I?" He says bleakly. "How can I be who I am meant to be, if I spurn romance?"

"Easily," Deceit says. "By being exactly who you are. You aren't broken, Roman, you sound like you're aromantic."

"I'm...what now?" Roman asks blankly.

"Aromantic," Deceit says. "It means that you don't feel romantic attraction. There's nothing wrong with that, you know. Plenty of people are aromantic."

"But-" He tries to protest.

"And passion doesn't mean romance," Virgil adds. "I mean, sure, romance _can_ be passionate, but you can be passionate about other things. And you _are_, you're certainly passionate about your work! You do a really good job!"

"You think so?" Roman asks, his cheeks flushed. Virgil nods vigorously.

"I know so," he says. "Everyone would agree with me, too."

"So...aromantic, huh?" Roman says, testing the word on his tongue.

"You could always do more research," Deceit says. "Aromanticism is a spectrum. Some people feel romantic attraction only rarely, or when they've gotten a deep connection with a person. Other people only feel romantic attraction when the other person doesn't like them back. Other people can't tell the difference between platonic and romantic attraction, or feelings. There's a lot out there."

"How do you know so much about it?" Roman asks curiously. Virgil cranes his neck to look at his boyfriend, curious to know, too.

"For a while, I thought that I was aromantic," Deceit says. "If I am, I believe I'm grey-romantic. I'm certainly attracted to Virgil." He drops another kiss on the top of Virgil's head, leaving Virgil a blushing mess.

"Thank you," Roman says fervently. "This- This helped a lot."

"You're welcome," Deceit murmurs.

"Would- would you like some cuddles?" Virgil asks. Roman hesitates, his expression plainly torn.

"I wouldn't want to intrude..." He says.

"You aren't intruding," Virgil says. Deceit quietly agrees with him. "Come on, Roman. It's okay."

"Well, if you're sure," Roman says, and nearly flies to the bed, he's so eager. They end up in a jumbled pile, under the weight of several of Deceit's blankets. Deceit curls up in the middle, soaking in the warmth from Virgil and Roman, his tongue sticking out in a happy blep.

"Do- does he always do that?" Roman asks, looking at Deceit's content expression.

"When he's happy, he does," Virgil answers, looking fondly down at his boyfriend. Roman smiles.

"I like seeing him this way," Roman says softly. "I hope that I see him happy more often."

"You will," Deceit says, without opening his eyes. "I promise you that."


End file.
